


In Perfect Harmony

by gvarchangel



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Clowns, F/M, Fantasy, Scary Clowns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26244733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gvarchangel/pseuds/gvarchangel
Summary: Jesters don't value much, but they are protective of the journals of their fallen. Enough so that if rumors start circulating about one being held by someone other than one of their own, a few will usually come investigate and barter to bring it back to their college. It's usually a quick exchange, some coin or a favor for the book... usually. Other times, this happens. On the positive side, Jingles and Arwen can always find a way to make things fun. And a little romantic.Putting Song Credits here at the top, especially because they go with the story. Recommend listening while reading. You'll know it when the songs start.Devil Trigger by RichaadEBhttps://youtu.be/5fkOtxzHOrMJonathan Young For The Dancing and the Dreaminghttps://youtu.be/32NJWxPovMYAnd now, onto the story.





	In Perfect Harmony

**In Perfect Harmony**

Jingles was always on his best behavior around Arwen. Well, the best behavior he could manage. Even if they were working, he was polite and held the door open for her. As well as pulled her seat out for her at the table.

Arwen gave him a small smile behind her mask. “Thank you, darling.”

“You creepy bastards gonna keep flirtin’, or are we gonna get to business?” the leader of the merc band barked.

One of his underlings chuckled. The rest stayed quietly tense, watching the new arrivals.

“I believe someone needs to work the polearm out of his ass, darling,” Jingles quietly snickered, his eyes on Arwen and intentionally ignoring the muscle for hire. “Maybe we should offer our services? Something to cheer him up, like a rousing game of ‘Pin the Tail on the Owlbear?’”

“Hmm… maybe later. After this has been dealt with.” The female Jester looked over the man across the table. He wasn’t the largest person here: that honor belonged to the lizardfolk woman behind him who was wide enough to wield a dwarf as a weapon. But the water genasi leader still had the bulk of someone used to labor. It was almost comical compared to two slender clowns. “I’m told you have a journal. One you know is worth something to us.”

He nodded. “That somethin’ better be coin. It’s the only reason I’m talkin’ to you and not kickin’ you weird freaks outta here on principle.”

“The more you insult us, the more I suspect you killed our dear Mako rather than simply finding his body. That would make negotiations difficult, so I suggest you keep those hurtful comments to yourself.” Arwen made her words surprisingly flat. Usually she was playful, pretending to be sweet, even. This man was already getting on her nerves.

“Nah, that was cave fishers that got your boy. Not my fault he didn’t leave the monster killin’ to the professionals. But I heard enough ‘bout you freaky clowns to know you like your books. Why I bothered grabbin’ it from what was left of him.”

Jingles shook his head. “And shall we take that on good faith? You haven’t even proven you have the journal. It wouldn’t be the first time a fool like you tried to take advantage of us…” He let out a quiet, malevolent chuckle. “… ‘weird freaks,’ as you so politely put it.”

The leader snapped his fingers. “Darastrix.”

“Sure.” The lizardfolk stepped forward and pulled out a leather bound book from her waist pouch. The once cream coloring was now covered with dark red splashes. It wasn’t a huge leap to guess it was the blood from the former aarakocra owner. Especially with the crude smiley face and name “Mako” carved into the front of it.

Arwen wanted to lead on the negotiations, so Jingles stayed silent and continued to lean on her chair. She reached into her pack and produced a small sack. It gave the thud of coin when she tossed it into the middle of the table. “There’s our offer. All the coin I have on me. Three hundred gold… plus or minus the cost of a good dinner.” Even with her features hidden behind the costume, the group could feel her grin at the joke she followed up with. “Or perhaps a good bath. Hygiene is terribly hard for traveling mercenaries, isn’t it?”

One of the five lackeys at the kids table sniffed her armpit. Another chuckled at his idiot partner. He got a back hand to the nose for his troubles.

The genasi frowned. Not that he had been smiling before, but he got noticeably grumpier. “Now that’s just insultin’… Buddy of mine found one of these journals and made a thousand off your cult. We deserve the same. Nah, more: we killed the things that ate your friend… Fifteen hundred’s fair.”

Jingles had a retort on the tip of his tongue. Arwen, knowing he was about to say something he shouldn’t, silenced him with a hand and responded for him. “If you completed your job, you were paid by your employer. Why don’t we call it eight hundred, then? Seeing as that three is all I have to my name and I’ll have to work quite hard to get that total.”

Darastix shook her head in time with her partner, boss, sex buddy, whatever her was to her. But only the genasi said anything. “Or how’s I just keep this three hundred for wastin’ my time? And you come back when you have a thousand? Assumin’ I ain’t sold it by then. I hear there’s a collector out in Golden Hill who likes weird crap like this.”

Arwen drummed her finger across the table, debating the next move. Jingles threw another pouch next to the first one. This one clanged even harder. “Seven forty two… I think. Math never was my strong suit.” While his chuckle seemed innocent enough, two of the lackeys backed up. They had noticed the slow shift in his eye color from blue to a dark yellow. “There’s five hundred and forty in that bag. Best you’re going to get out of us: We don’t have some life savings to go raid.”

“See? Friggin’ called it!” The genasi chuckled, pulling the bags to himself. He undid the strings holding them closed and spilled the coin onto the table. Gold and platinum scattered across the wood.

Every eye in the tavern was instantly on them, but no one moved closer. The mercs outnumbered the patrons, and they didn’t have the weapons to have a chance at taking the coin.

Jingles eyed the lizardfolk expectantly. Arwen spoke for both the Jesters. “Then we have a deal.” She held her hand out.

Frowns came across both faces again. The genasi actually scoffed. “Yeah, we do. Good down payment, darlin’.” He put an inflection on his voice as a very poor imitation of Jingles. “Thousand total. You got two days to scrounge up the last of it before we move on to Golden Hill and sell it there. And, uh, no refunds on your deposit.”

Jingles’ eyes flashed to pure red for a moment. Darastix readied her sword, finally noticing the shift. Three of the lackeys at the other table instinctively reached for their weapons.

“As you wish,” Arwen said calmly. “We will be back tomorrow with the rest of the coin. Please, do be gentle with the book until then.”

It only took a beat for Jingles to back off once her words were in the air. Almost instantly, his eyes reverted back to their normal blue. He pulled Arwen’s chair back for her so she could get out easily, then gave a bow to the rest. “Until we meet again...” His chuckle seemed surprisingly cheerful.

Both Jesters felt the eyes on them as they started to leave. Neither one said anything, not even using magic to communicate silently. They walked away holding hands like a normal couple, the mercs watching them with surprise. Not exactly bad, but they all expected that to go differently for a moment.

When Jingles reached the door, he started to hold it open for Arwen again when he stopped. He shared a quick look with her, nodded, then turned back to the mercs with bright blue eyes. “Actually, I’ve one last thing, if you would be so kind don’t mind. It’ll be free, promise.”

The genasi was still counting the coin on the table. Darastix was more apprehensive and kept watching the Jesters. “Yeah, what?”

Jingles pulled his bandore from his back and held it at his chest. A strap made sure he wouldn’t drop it as he approached. “Well, your generous deal means we will have to work for some extra coin. And I have a song I’ve been working on. Mind if I test it on your men, see if it’s a dud before I play for a big crowd?”

Darastix looked him over for several seconds… before nodding to the boss. She also relaxed and let her sword rest in its sheath.

The genasi waved without looking to the clown. “Yeah, sure. Make it quick.”

“Only take a minute, sir.” Jingles bowed and turned to the five inexperienced hires at their own table. He bowed to them as well before giving a dramatic flourish. “My new friends, please, do me the favor of holding nothing back. I want your completely honest opinion of what’s to come. A performer who won’t take criticism is one who will never grow, after all.”

A couple of them chuckled. Two were whispering between each other now. But all of their eyes were on Jingles. It explained why they missed Arwen scooting closer to him. She found a position about four feet behind his left shoulder. Jingles stood between her and the underlings, while she had a clear angle on the two leaders. The genasi was still focused on his coin while the lizardfolk just leered at Jingles. If she noticed Arwen, she didn’t care.

Jingles produced a wooden pick from his sleeve, lowered his head, and found the starting position on his lute. “Give ‘em a good one, Jessie… and keep Arwen covered.” His whisper was just loud enough the other Jester could catch it, but she had been expecting it.

He clicked the beat with his tongue and tapped his foot to it. It was quick, not a sprint but faster than most things played in a tavern. Or anywhere, for that matter. Magic coursed through the lute, through his body, and the air around him. Jessie didn’t sound like a bandore when he began strumming. Her chords were foreign, impossible even, and barely a whisper. A drum seemed to be keeping the tempo quietly beside him.

The mercs all leaned forward eagerly. They watched the clown bob to the beat, his bells jingling in time. One put a hand to her ear to listen carefully. But sure enough, by the fourth measure, they could hear the volume growing, the chords starting to drown out the tavern ambiance. Every note was indescribable, but filled an energy that couldn’t be contained. Like he had literal lightening in his fingers.

Or thunder. Jingles finally looked at them, his eyes a menacing yellow. They could almost see the grin behind his mask as he slammed the next chord. The phantom drums joined him, as well as a squadron of other lutes. The table they sat at exploded. All scrambled back in terror, most in pain as their ears bled and splinters filled their faces.

Arwen felt the rhythm, knew her partner and his song. When the beat dropped, she launched a quartet of burning rays at the leaders. The genasi caught his two beams in the ribs, igniting his clothes and torso. His panicked lurch to escape sent coin everywhere. Darastix caught the first one in her sternum, then the second right in the teeth. Her entire face caught fire as she was knocked off her feet.

The room filled with screaming and chaos. But there were two other noises stood out. Jingles’ phantom chorus continued to play with him, almost drowning out the panicked crowd. But there was singing too. “Singing” was a loose term for what Jingles was doing, but Infernal never sounded pretty.

_The darkness of night falls around my soul, and the hunter within loses control!_

He slung Jessie onto his back, and anyone watching could see her strings still buzzing with energy as the song continued. Jingles’ sickle appeared and carved two thirds out of the neck of the closest soldier. He didn’t even have to put magic into the cut to make sure the job was done. His left hand shot fire into the knees of the three trying to get their weapons drawn on the manic clown. They fell right back to the floor.

Arwen sang the harmony in Common as she pulled a small diamond from her pocket.

_Gotta let it out, gotta let it out… burn ‘em all, darling, show ‘em the way out…_

She spun the diamond in her hand, producing a softball sized orb of electricity. With terrifying accuracy, she hurled it over Jingles’ shoulder into the standing merc’s chest. Arwen was the only other one who knew Jingles’ left eye was useless, only she was aware the fighter was in his blindspot. The woman’s body went rigid before falling to the ground. The Jester’s feet carried her gracefully to the other side of the dining room, putting a little extra distance between her and the recovering leaders.

Jingles felt his hair stand on end as the orb whizzed past his ear. He flashed his lover a mask-hidden smile before moving to the next target.

_The demon inside has a hold of me! Clutching its power, trying to break free!_

It looked like he only pointed at the soldier that had found his feet and weapon. But the merc’s mind immediately felt magic within. Suddenly it wasn’t just the two clowns that wanted him dead: it was everyone in the room. He panicked and swung his blackjack at his former partner. The hit connected with her forehead, instantly knocking her out. Jingles gave a quick howl of laughter.

Arwen saw the two leaders trying to figure out which way was up and decided she was better off finishing off the lackeys. She focused with a grin and vanished. In almost the same beat, she appeared behind the only soldier standing and not hallucinating.

_Gotta let it out, gotta let it out… burn ‘em all, darling, show ‘em the way out…_

She grabbed him by his ear and whispered a quiet goodbye. His features shriveled up as the life was literally sucked out of him. It would’ve been painful if it took more than a second. But he collapsed as little more than a dried husk.

Jingles approached the last underling and snapped his fingers an inch from his face. One soft note, gentle compared to the roaring music, rang out. The merc was snoring as he went limp.

Arwen was grinning to herself, taking just a moment to appreciate her work when the hatchet whizzed past her. The lizard was charging her now, her second hand ax already in the air. The Jester was ready for that one and didn’t need luck to dodge.

But Jingles heard her first yelp. He spun on his heel, his music faltering for just a moment. His yellow eyes focused on a lantern mounted to the wall. The fire within leapt out in a blinding display, literally; the lizard’s only working pupil was ruined by the bright flame. Jingles snarled as he ran at her.

As the phantom instruments and Jessie found their groove again, Arwen teleported herself into the mess of downed underlings, where she could cover Jingles. And take the chorus for him.

_Embrace the darkness within me… No hiding in the shadows anymore..._

Jingles made the conscious decision this one was dying by blade. The others hadn’t pissed him off by going after Arwen. He slid on his knees under the lizard’s sword and carved her knee out from under her. Dark magic seeped from the cut as necrotic energy tore through her muscle. But she didn’t fall. Blind, she was still swinging at the jingling clown she heard dancing around her.

_When this wickedness consumes me… Nothing can save you and there’s no way out..._

Arwen focused her magic on the sword aimed for her fiance. Even the handle glowed red as it became hotter than magma. The lizard had to drop it, down to only her claws and teeth now.

Jingles took one breath to focus on Jessie again, to make sure she was still playing for them. While her solos weren’t great without his fingers guiding her, the music kept energy pumping through him. He put that voltage into his next sickle swing. It missed her neck, but carved into her shoulder. Purple energy raced into her brain. Now she was bleeding from the eyes and ears, not just the cuts.

The chorus was one Arwen helped him write. It was only fair she finish singing it now.

_I’m a bomb you can’t defuse, just accept you’re gonna lose..._

As the female Jester readied another spell to finish Darastix, she saw the genasi trying to make a break for it. He got the door open and found a giant fist of earth waiting for him. There wasn’t time to scream as it slammed into his chest, then pushed him into the floor of the tavern. The wood beneath him cracked with each hit from the massive hand.

Jingles took another swing at the lizard’s head. Instead of the blade sinking into her brain, she bit into his forearm. The clown snarled back, then made a fist with his free hand. When it connected with her jaw, it exploded with another clap of thunder. It was enough to not just free his arm, but to send her flailing across the floor. She didn’t move when she rolled into the wall.

Ca _n’t turn down, I refuse, to hold back anymore..._

Arwen punctuated the end of the chorus with a final slam of the earthen hand. The crunch that rang out wasn’t one of wood, but bone. The genasi went still with his chest collapsed into itself.

Jingles was panting when he saw no one was left standing. Well, beyond the three patrons cowering in the corner, pissing themselves. He made a shushing whisper, and Jessie closed out the song for them. He put just enough magic into the thought that she listened, giving a quick rising scale before ending on a proper chord and beat. Then there was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and whimpering. He chuckled lowly, then began walking to Arwen.

She reached beneath her mask and wiped some of the sweat that accumulated on her brow. “Well… that wasn’t as diplomatic as I was hoping.” She turned to Jingles as he got close. “Why do I feel like you aren’t disappointed?”

“I cannot tell a lie. I was hoping for at least a small brawl. It’s been almost four days since someone tried to kill me: I was afraid my life was becoming boring.” He gave a smirking bow with a small flourish.

“As if any day with you around could be boring.” A tiny laugh in her voice, she forced his face up to hers. She gave a quick mask kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for helping with the negotiation. Even if it ended poorly.”

“Happy to help, darling.” He nuzzled her back. Arwen didn’t have to see his mouth to know he was smiling. It was in his eyes as she stared at the bright blue irises, not even an inch from hers.

“C-C-C-Can we l-l-leave, p-p-p-please?” a voice asked timidly from the corner. The barkeep, a very thin looking half-orc, was the only one brave enough to stand and ask.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. We should have done that further from the exit, shouldn’t we?” Arwen gave Jingles another tiny peck before stepping around him. She made a waving motion, and the earthen fist brushed the genasi’s body aside. “There. Is that enough for-”

The barkeep was the first out the door. His patrons were a second behind him.

Arwen stared dumb founded for a beat. “… Now that was rude. Just for that, I’m going to suggest we leave all this for them to clean up themselves.”

“That was my plan, anyway. They’ll get a nice bonus from the money on these idiots. They can earn it with an hour or two of cleaning.” Jingles moved over to the genasi’s table and began collecting the money scattered by the brawl.

“True.” Arwen walked over to the lizardfolk’s body and dug Mako’s journal from her pocket. Thankfully, none of the blood or fire had touched it. But she got a surprise as she searched: the woman actually groaned. Arwen gave an impressed whistle. “This one’s tougher than she looks. Much more so than her boss.”

Jingles stopped collecting the spilled coin. He pointed to each of the mercenaries, counting them as he did. “Huh… we were one off from breaking even. Been a while since we managed that.”

“Not since… what was that town’s name? Had that dreadfully dingy inn, but wonderful diner. The chef was a tiefling who made amazing pork sandwiches?”

“Oh, crap, it’s on the tip of my tongue… Lanncraig!”

“That’s it! And the chef swore his real name was Cook!”

“Right. We need to go back there. In the fall. He thought his apple cider was the best in the continent. We need to bring some of Squirrel’s and prove him wrong.”

“Agreed.” Arwen finally found what she was looking for in the lizard’s backpack, a small healing potion. She forced her snout up and about half of it into her throat. The fighter coughed a few times, but didn’t seem to wake up. Nodding, she closed the bottle and tossed it to Jingles. “Darling, take this, please. Before that arm gets infected again.”

Not only did Jingles miss catching the bottle on his blind side, he tripped over a broken table leg trying to. “Hey! That was on purpose!”

Arwen grinned mischievously. “Prove it.”

“Maybe I will...” he grumbled under his breath as he chugged the last bit of the potion. It didn’t do anything for the stinging, but it did stop the bleeding.

Less than five minutes later, they were all set. A majority of the spilled coin had been found and distributed to the correct Jester. They kept only half of the coin from the survivors as payment for the performance. Arwen took the shirt from the one she drained and used it to make a protective wrap for Mako’s journal. The tavern still looked like a hurricane had torn through it, but it was mostly superficial damage… except for part of the floor. That would definitely need to be replaced. And the two tables. And the wall where the lantern that exploded. But everything else was fixable. Probably.

With a little magic and a crack of her fingers, Arwen got the of the merc blood out of her costume. She was able to do the same for Jingles, but they would have to repair his sleeve by hand tonight. There were long tears where the teeth had gripped his forearm. “Ready to go, darling?”

Jingles nodded as he looked around the room one last time. “I believe we have everything… although I’m not quite ready to leave yet.”

“Oh?” Arwen could tell he had something planned in that erratic brain of his. Something nice, but not something she immediately guessed. “What would possibly keep you here longer?”

“Why, that dreadfully underused dance floor. Beautiful, private, and well away from the carnage.” He gestured to a clear section of the floor, surrounded by dining tables. It was large enough it had to be meant for more than just a path between seats. The tavern probably had dances here, when musicians passed through or for special celebrations. “It seems such a shame to leave it unused.”

Arwen gave the smallest laugh under her breath as she shook her head. “Of course… We get done killing sell swords and saving the journal of a dead Jester. And you immediately want to have a romantic moment.”

“If not now, when? Should I wait an hour, a day? Or should we just enjoy the opportunity we have?” He held his hand out for her, grinning, waiting to lead her towards the small dance floor.

“Enjoy this one. We never know when we’ll have another like it... But I can still say your timing is worse than your jokes.” As cruel as her words were, her smile could be heard in them. She took his hand and gave a small curtsy. “I would love to dance with you.”

Jingles gave a small bow back. “Only if you truly want to, darling.”

She pushed his hand aside. She wouldn’t settle for anything short of a hug from him, getting close enough she could whisper sweetly in his ear. “The only person I ever want to dance with is you, Jingles… whenever we can.”

He pressed closer and hugged her as tight as he could. He had to lean down slightly so he could put his masked face in her neck. “… No one, Arwen. No one could ever compare to you.”

“Then prove it.” She ended the hug and took his hand. It made him significantly easier to lead onto the dance floor.

There were no windows visible here, and even the front door was hidden around the corner. But Arwen still took a moment to lock it closed with a spectral hand, ensuring they had total privacy. Jingles used the time to remove their packs and set them in a chair. Jessie got her own seat, of course. But he wasted no time returning immediately to his partner’s side.

“You have a song in mind, darling?” Arwen asked, moving close to Jingles.

Their hands found each other’s with practiced ease. They both had long musician’s fingers, nimble and graceful as they interwove.

“A few… but I think Papa Noel would approve of this one.”

From the air around them, a piano began a slow melody. A simple tune, but still beautiful. And one both Jesters had been taught by one of the oldest members of their college. Hearing its beginning made them both smile. They began dancing, barely more than a shuffle from side to side for now.

Jingles took the first verse, singing just loud enough for Arwen to hear.

_I’ll swim and sail on savage seas... with ne’er a fear of drowning… And gladly ride the waves of life… if you would marry me…_

As the piano started adding a little more harmony, more keys to the chord without losing the melody, Arwen sang the next verse. She had always been the better dancer of the two, so she began leading.

_No scorching sun, no freezing cold… will stop me on my journey…. If you would promise me your heart... and love for all eternity…_

Just like that, they were off. The tempo picked up on the piano and other unearthly instruments joined in, and the couple began a proper performance. The dance had no name or organized choreography. No words were exchanged between them beyond of the lyrics of a song only Jesters knew. But they were in perfect harmony. They flowed around each other, to and fro in a storm of red and white. Even the clanking of their weapons seemed to be a part of the dance.

Neither one was sure when the masks came off. It certainly wasn’t planned. But as the minutes blurred together and the song grew, the layers of instruments merging into what could only be described as an orchestra, it just felt right. It became like the rest of the dance: unplanned, but each Jester in concert with the other. The white wood was tossed to the side, landing vaguely in the area of their bags. The costumed lovers continued to dance around each other like a chaotic tempest. Never did either one lose the rhythm.

The song’s climax came and went, both of them laughing and singing through it all. When the final note rang out, they were in each other’s arms. Both were panting harder than they had during the brawl, a thin layer of sweat on their foreheads. Both were smiling as wide as they could with their lips an inch from each other. Their wildly different features and costumes made for an odd pair of opposites. But the kind that complimented each other to form a single, complete picture.

They stayed there for a minute or ten in utter silence, hugging each other and sharing a few quiet kisses. Arwen clung to him like he would disappear if she let go for even a moment. Jingles gripped her so she knew how impossible it was for him to consider a life without her. Their grins never faded. The minutes might have even become hours for all they were aware. The world was spinning without them and they were fine with that. As far as they were concerned, everything important in the world was in their arms.

When people were finally brave enough to come to the bar the next morning, the four dead bodies were still there. They also found notes where the survivors had been left to sleep. The papers were torn from being pinned to the sleepers’ chests, then ripped off in a panic.

_We value the journals of our fallen. More so than the lives of those who would keep them from us. Tell your friends. ~The Jesters_

* * *

Song Credits where they are deserved:

Devil Trigger by RichaadEB

[ https://youtu.be/5fkOtxzHOrM ](https://youtu.be/5fkOtxzHOrM)

Jonathan Young For The Dancing and the Dreaming

[ https://youtu.be/32NJWxPovMY ](https://youtu.be/32NJWxPovMY)

Oh, it felt good to get this one out. I've had half of an idea for this for ages. Jingles and Arwen have a much more… complicated relationship in the campaign currently. So I wanted to remind myself that they started in a good place and will likely get back there eventually. Or my DM will die horribly in a mysterious house fire. I'm kidding, Nick… somewhat. 

But I wanted to get back into a semi-regular groove of writing again. A Canon one shot of the clowns being violent and romantic was a good excuse as any, a warm up. Plus, it got me to dive a little more into the lore of the Jesters: their journals, Papa Noel, some of the non-eldritch secrets they keep to themselves. I've got one other idea I want to try and do before digging back into my Dishonored fic. Might as well make a little more fluff for Shepard and Tali, right? 

But anyway, hope everyone enjoyed the murderous fluff. I'm trying to get back into a normal writing rhythm again. Covid lockdown in the US and a toddler who had to get tubes in his ears due to constant ear infections has made life hard to find a good, productive, enjoyable rhythm. Think I'm getting there though. 

I hope everyone is doing well out there. The world's gone crazy, but I hope we all stay safe and find a little refuge in being nerds together. ~MGA

Credit for the main inspiration behind the Jesters, being the Jester from Darkest Dungeon, goes to Red Hook Studios. And credit for a damn good game.

Song credits belong to those above, even if they're both covers.

Jingles and Arwen and the story are mine.

And because I feel like it, most recent art for both my clowns. Pray for them, ya'll. They're gonna need it.

Jingles courtesy of https://twitter.com/sacherali

And Arwen, courtesy of https://www.deviantart.com/reckoner-lynx


End file.
